Look me up in your Yellow Pages-I will be your Rock of Ages

Since the highlight of my day was blatant job trolling, I'm just going to ramble on a couple of things. (Yes, grammar nazis, I sat under a bridge yelling at passers-by that they could eiter pay me the toll or give me a job. Aren't you glad you snarked.)

OK-first thing first-the TCR comm I hang out in featured one person (followed by me, followed by another, followed by a person that didn't even go to a taping because she's 14 and thus couldn't get in-and personally I find that creepy but as to why that is and my star fucking isn't I can only assume it has something to do with age) detailing their contact with the man. The first person to tell this same story said something like "Now I wish I'd never written anything about meeting him, if people are going to do it every night."
Oh, shut up! You do not. You only worry that you won't be able to have the same experience next time. Don't act noble or like your delicate sense of a famous person's right to privacy has been damaged. If you thought he deserved privacy you wouldn't have waited on the street in the first place.
As a dedicated fixture at stage doors, after hours and other post-show extravaganzas I know the emotion. But I've never pretended it was anything but completely self interested. Back many years ago Todd used to hang out after the shows, drinking and laughing with the four or five people that stuck around. (Course, this was before all that rehab) Now, he runs away from the audience like a whipped dog. The poor guy wants nothing to do with most of his fans-just seeing the look in his eyes when someone he doesn't know/trust comes up to him with something to sign or a camera is sort of really sad. But, on the flipside-the people he recognizes are always welcome and the expression he wears then is much different.
It's not about someone getting home to his wife/kids-that should be part of it and every good fan knows the protocol: 'hi, love yr work (not LUV U!!!!--That's bad), say something witty, get a picture/autograph, turn the opposite direction even if you're not going that way. It's the bad!fans that don't follow that system that fuck everything up for everyone.
My point, and like Ellen DeGeneres, I do have one-is that stage-dooring is to be expected. People perform because they need that immediate, positive, personal affirmation. Mik will swear different ("I don't like talking to the audience, that's why I don't talk to performers.)-but I've seen the look on her face after a show-applause tastes good. And I've seen her dodge out a side door or let me take the compliments for her. (I am the queen of asides! Why do people think that Sis and I look so much alike as to be interchangeable? She's skinny and has darker curlier hair and look way more style.) If a person is so inclined there are plenty of ways to avoid fans.
Alright-I'm off this topic for today. It fascinates me and if I was anything but the most lazy and distractable person--oooh! shiny!--- in the Land of the Free I would pursue this interest somewhere other than on this blog.

Do I have anything else fandom related about which to complain? Oh, probably. But I wouldn't want to waste a really good rant on a half-assed attack.

So-with that in mind I will just update my boring, boring Judge Judy watching life.
The job hunt continues in a vaguely upstroke kind of movement. I have tried to make contact with the powers that be and get my name into the brain of people that might want to hire me for a full time position. It required wearing a clean shirt-and yet somehow still managing to look vaguely Columbo-esque. Due to my belief that irons are only for applying t-shirt appliques.
And I bought some discount rum today that tastes like paint-thinner. Is that what rum usually tastes like? I don't drink much of the stuff. How many limes/packets of sugar should I add before I don't notice that I'm drinking a toxic substance? Does rum go bad?
Are capers an acceptable snack? I've been eating them with the same vigor people give potato chips-speaking of which, last night I had a snack pack of Ketchup chips for dinner. And 5 beers. Good times.
Maybe my life is very, very sad, and I'm just not able to accept it at the moment.